Hey, readers. Sorry it’s been a month. I haven’t forgotten about you guys at all, I swear. It’s been a bad month, mental health-wise, is all. Between living in COVID central (wear a goddamn mask, folks) and it being as hot as three hot pockets and a Mickey Ds apple pie straight from the microwave outside, I’ve been trapped inside a whole hell of a lot without surcease. There was a flurry of activity in late May/early June that included putting up shelves and finally (!) setting up a writing station for me in the apartment so the other half can work from home, but after that…
Nope. Nothing. Except existential loneliness and the incessant whining of my cats, things have been kinda… dead around here. Great for someone with anxiety and depression problems, right?
The other half has been learning CAD? I think. Computer stuff is basically Sumerian to be, only not as cool because I’d love to learn Sumerian and freak out assholes who insist I say Merry Christmas even though there are several holidays around that time of the year. Yeah, I’ve got a perverse sort of humor like that. Plus, Sumerian is an isolate language, which is super interesting, and following the way it married into other languages of the area, including Hebrew, would be super exciting for me. Alas, I’m not sure Learn Ancient Sumerian is included in the Great Courses Plus.
OK, full disclosure, I haven’t looked yet. I’m afraid I’d rack up some Sisyphean credit card bill if I were allowed access to that site, so I’ve mostly been avoiding it. But if the depressive spiral I’m on lately doesn’t quit, I might have to dive in… with a strict budget overseen by the other half. When it comes to stuff like that, I’m like shoe people. You know the ones. Seriously. Go find some shoe people and say something disparaging about, uh, Jordans? I don’t know. What are the cool kids buying these days?
I’m almost done editing Mercutio. As if now, between the various edits A and I have done, over 50,000 words have been removed from this behemoth, and it’s finally below 110k. I have gotten rid of some stuff I desperately love, but I’m willing to get rid of it if it makes the novel the best it can be. Also, so agents will, you know, take a chance on it. As much my work is precious, I’m not precious about it. If that makes sense.
Finally got all the feedback for Liar, so I should be diving into that soon. Thankfully, I don’t think it’ll need the work Merc does. It’s tighter as it is, and already well within the norm for SFF word counts. I’m really, genuinely unable to do anything but editing right now because it’s the only thing that doesn’t leave me absolutely knackered after twenty minutes. Not a great place for a writer to be, but that’s the reality for some of us sometimes, you know?
You heard it here, folks. Don’t ask when a writer will be done with their book or comment on how easy it is to write one. It’s very, very annoying, and there’s no guarantee said writer won’t murder you. In their book, of course. Though if there’s any group of people who could get away with murder, it’s writers. Trust me.
Anyway, that’s it for me here, readers. Please wear a mask. Stay safe. Don’t be an asshole. And check out your people. Especially the ones with mental health issues. And the extroverts. Make sure they’re OK. I can only imagine how much worse off I’d be if I actually liked being around people for long stretches of time.